


The Wolf who loved the Moon

by aniloverji12



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Sad and Happy, Temporary Character Death, wolf - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-15 10:16:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aniloverji12/pseuds/aniloverji12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spain is a wolf. An unimportant, rather simple creature. But he soon discovers his moon and is struck with an insatiable love for  the boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chirping curiously, the wolf approached the bush with its tail wagging like a friendly dog. Soft snuffling followed as the green-eyed creature sniffed out the trembling boy hidden in the depths of the blackberry bush. His throat humming in a pleased growl, the creature poked its snout into the prickly bush and nuzzled the terrified boy’s shoulder, trying to convince the silly little thing to come out. The boy with dark locks, wide hazel eyes and a red nose, pushed away the invading nose as his lips quivered in fear,” Get away! You can’t eat me! ”  
  
His eyes flickering in confusion, the wolf, named Spain, retreated but not before giving a soft lick to the boy’s tear stained cheeks.  Stepping back and sitting patiently, Spain watched the boy with his intelligent green eyes. He gave a soft howl.  
  
The boy’s eyes followed his movements and the howling didn’t help as the boy jumped in fear and settled himself further into the bush’s leafy stronghold.  
  
Spain was growing impatient. With a shake of his head, he rose and once again approached the bush and stuck his snout in carefully, trying not to startle the curious creature hiding inside. His teeth met the boy’s torn shirt and he grasped it gently in his mouth and tugged. The boy shrieked. Ignoring the noise, he continued to tug the boy out, gently but firmly, and was pleased when the boy finally fell out of his prickly fortress with a squeak and a thump.  
  
Letting go of the boy’s shirt, Spain quickly curled himself around the boy to prevent him from escaping. The boy, with his rumpled, torn clothes, his tear-swollen eyes, and sniffling nose that dripped; whimpered as he tried not to touch the furry body that surrounded him,” Don’t eat me. Please.”  
  
Spain’s eyes narrowed. Did the boy have such little faith in him? Shaking out the prickles and debris in his fur from head to tail, Spain relaxed himself and gave gentle licks to the boy’s face. Without speaking, he tried to reassure the boy that no he was certainly not going to eat his little moon.  
  
The boy visibly relaxed when he realized the licks were meant to be a gesture of reassurance and fondness rather than ones of hunger.  His shoulders were still much too tense for Spain’s liking, but Spain supposed not all things were to be solved at once. Busying himself with cleaning the boy’s scratches, Spain crooned a love note as his tongue swiped gently across the boy’s shallow cuts. The boy winced but otherwise did not complain. ‘Such a naughty little moon’, Spain mused as the boy settled himself closer to Spain's warmth,’ thinking to hide himself in a blackberry bush. Thinking to run away and terrify me.’  
  
His eyes starting to droop at half-mast, the boy soon fell asleep with Spain’s croons serving as his lullaby and Spain’s soft fur serving as his bed.  


* * *

  
  
Spain supposed the greatest day of his shortened life was when he discovered little moon.  
  
He had always watched the villages in his territory at a distance but the boy grabbed his attention in a town in Scillia. Spain had been going on his usual territory patrol when he found a pair of twins looking out at the woods, at him, from the edge of their village. One had a sunny smile on his face as he whispered excitedly to his brother and pointed out Spain’s hunched form. But the other boy simply observed Spain with quiet, hazel eyes and scowled when Spain’s green eyes met his. Spain couldn’t help but be fascinated. Without thinking, he approached the two, not once breaking eye contact with the boy with hazel eyes. The smiling boy soon cried out in fear, dropping his smile and tried to tug his brother away. But the other boy, Spain’s boy, stood his ground with a defiant expression that dared Spain to come closer.  
  
Spain was lucky that he wasn’t shot at by the boys’ grandfather who suddenly appeared and shooed the wolf away.  
  
Ever since then, Spain had always taken his time to watch the same village for any signs of his boy. Crouching down at the border between nature and human society, he watched the boy play with the other children, do his chores around the village and sometimes he swore he saw the boy stare back at him, as though he knew Spain was there.  
  
Spain had also taken to calling the boy, Little Moon, for he drew Spain toward him like the luminescent orb in the sky often drew creatures of the night.  
  
He grew frightfully attached to this human boy, but he couldn’t bear to tear himself away for fear of losing sight of his moon.   
  
Imagine his surprise and fear when he visited the village and couldn’t find his moon anywhere among the glittering townlights.  


* * *

  
  
 _It started as a growing pit of doubt._  
  
He had wandered near the village once more and sniffed the air, trying to find where his Little Moon went. Strangely enough, he couldn’t get a scent of the boy anywhere in the village.  
  
 _The pit grew deeper and a seed of fear was planted in its depth._  
  
Paws lightly trotting, he circled the entire village, still no scent of his boy. He paused when he heard shouts and saw the villagers below searching for something desperately. His ears flickering forward, Spain drew closer to hear what they were yelling.  
  
“ Romano!”  
  
“ Romano Vargas!”  
  
“ Fratello!”  
  
It was the last small screech that caught his attention as his eyes sharply focused onto the small child, his Moon’s brother, Little Sun. Little Sun was yelling with all his might as his hands were cupped around his mouth,” Brother! Fratello! Where are you!”  
  
 _Then Spain’s heart dropped into that pit and the seed of fear grew into a flower of terror._  
  
Feet springing into action, Spain ran with adrenaline rushing in his veins. They had lost his Moon! Those stupid villagers had lost his precious moon and now Spain had to find him before it was too late.  
  
He shook his head as terrible images of the boy being torn from limb to limb by other predators filled his mind. No. He must find the boy and keep him safe. Following an old scent, Spain began to track his Moon’s voyage through the forest.  
  
He found the boy in a blackberry bush, trembling in fear.  


* * *

  
  
Once Spain had the child's warmth safe in his grasp, he found it would be almost impossible for him to let the boy go. Now that he knew the boy's sweet scent and his soft warmth curling against his side, Spain couldn't return to the life of watching his moon from afar.   
  
He contemplated what he should do as rain started to drizzle down on them and the boy awoke as a roaring thunder shook the trees overhead. The boy cried out in fear but Spain was quick to comfort him, nuzzling the boy's cheek with his wet nose. Standing as raindrops collected and dripped off his fur, Spain nosed the boy to stand as well. He grabbed the boy's sleeve with his mouth and gently tugged the boy to his home, a shoddy shack that laid in the heart of the forest. He had taken up the human dwelling as a hopeful venture. He felt he was closer to the boy, closer to being a human, in this strange home.

  
A crack of thunder split the skies and the boy yelped as he rushed inside. Spain followed with a worried yip and wrapped himself once more around the shivering boy. Despite the pattering of raindrops, Spain could hear humans approaching from afar.   
  
He hoped that the rain would preserve him and his moon a little more time together. 

* * *

  
They were here for him. They were here for his little moon. But Spain was not going to give up without a fight. He growled gutturally as his eyes narrowed at the intruders. They were big, adult humans who stood with their weapons pointed at him. The stupid humans who thought they would be trusted with his moon after losing him once. No, the moon was his now.   
  
Spain glanced back to see his little moon trembling like a leaf in a gale and was compelled to comfort him but he shook off the emotion and instead snarled with all his might at the invaders.   
  
"It's that wolf!"  
  
"Did the wolf kidnap the child?"  
  
"How strange."  
  
"It's dangerous to leave Romano here. We must kill the wolf and take Romano home."  
  
"No! Leave him alone!"  
  
Spain did not like the sounds of this conversation. He growled warningly before he leapt to attack the tallest human. As his teeth sank viciously and tore at the man's soft bleeding flesh, Spain heard a crash of thunder and smelled the hateful scent of gunpowder. Spain felt a jolting pain blossom on his abdomen and he fell back, collapsing onto the hard floor with a crash. He panted, it was growing harder to draw his breath and his ear tilted back as he heard little moon run to him. Sighing when he felt soft fingers gently grab at his fur, Spain knew that little moon was crying his fat teardrops for him, " Get up, you stupid wolf!  Get up! I won't forgive you if you  die!"   
  
Spain could only croon his love note to the boy as he felt his body give and darkness creep over his vision. His last image was of his little boy being taken away from his slowly cooling body.  
  


* * *

  
  
Shoes scuffling against the rocky ground, Romano watched the treelines with a hopeful glint in his eyes. As though searching for a faint star among the dark trees, Romano’s gaze fluttered in all directions. He had hoped against all odds that the wolf would show up. Eyes starting to water, he ran. He ran toward the treelines, through the forest, to that shabby shack where his wolf was.   
  
Panting as he caught his breath, Romano took a gulp of air and swung open the door. The wolf was still there. His chest was stained red and his fur drenched with water. There was not enough time for his body to start decomposing, and as Romano rushed forward and knelt next to the cold form, he couldn’t help but think it was sleeping.  
  
‘The least I can do for you..... Is give you a proper funeral,’ Romano thought as his small arms wrapped around the freezing, wet fur and started to half-carry, half-drag the heavy body out.   
  
As he felt the soft fur brush his cheek accidentally, he started crying again. Suddenly he felt the heavy load lifted from his arms and released not too gently on the dewy grass,” Hey! What the hell, bastard!”  
  
Romano looked up to see a teen with bright, green eyes and curly, chestnut dark hair. The teen was smiling with sad eyes at Romano and he reached down to pick Romano into his arms. Struggling, Romano yelped and shrieked as he was picked up,” Let go of me! You bastard! I have to bury him!”  
  
A soft reply,” Don’t worry, he’s just happy you remembered him afterall.”  
  
At the answer, Romano felt his throat choke as tears leaked from his glistening eyes and he sobbed into the stranger’s shoulder.  
  
Nuzzling the boy’s cheek, the teen, spoke tenderly,” Do not cry. He wouldn’t have like you crying.”  
  
Romano hiccuped out,” Who says?”  
  
“ I do, Little Moon.”


	2. Revelations

Vene liked Spain. Spain was handsome and charming and funny and he liked listening to Vene ramble. He was the only one who would energetically nod his head as Vene went on and on about picayune and pointless things while others simply left him talking alone with a weak excuse.

But Vene also realized that Spain really liked his brother. It was apparent in the way Spain's eyes would immediately turn to glance at Romano when he entered the room. Then Spain would glance over longingly with his pitiful, green eyes until Romano finally made his way over to talk to him. It was like everything became exponentially unimportant to Spain once Romano was within a hundred feet.

Romano denied it, of course. He argued that Spain was only a bastard and that he was just grateful to Romano for taking him in (like he should be) when he found Spain in the woods.

Vene didn't believe a word of it for he had a suspicious feeling that Romano also very much liked Spain.

* * *

A startled yelp greeted Spain as he grinned and scooped up Romano who was starting to grow too big for Spain's excited hugs.

"Spain! Get off, jerk!"

Spain laughed as he softly kissed Romano's flushed cheek," Hello to you too, little moon."

"I didn't miss you."

"I didn't ask if you did," Spain answered with a chuckle as the tips of Romano's ears grew red in embarrassment.

"But I didn't!" Romano replied stubbornly despite the fact his arms were wrapped tightly around Spain's neck.

Landing another quick kiss on Romano's pouty red cheeks, Spain carried the boy back home from the forest edge where he had been waiting.

"Did you go to that place again?" Romano whispered hesitantly into Spain's ear.

"Si."

"Is he okay?"

"His grave hasn't been disturbed."

"No-o, I mean.. Do you think he's okay?"

"I think..." Spain paused to find the right words," he's happy. He's where he was meant to be.. He's with his little moon."

Romano blinked as his brows furrowed, trying to understand," Like how Nonno says people go to the sky when they die?"

"Si," Spain smiled tenderly as he hugged Romano closer, reveling in his soft warmth," …. something like that."

* * *

Spain's relationship with Romano couldn't be described as purely romantic love. It would have not only been offensive to call it such but also downright blasphemous to limit Spain's adorations to superficial romance.

Spain's relationship with Romano couldn't be described as purely paternal love. A father or brother didn't feel the way Spain felt toward Romano. They never felt the pure thrill at feeling his warmth in his arms and the need to hold him there and hide him away from the world. Paternal love didn't feel so pure and right when Spain landed less than innocent kisses on Romano's cheeks.

Spain's love was in all sense a mix of the two and more, where one ended and the other began not even Spain knew. All he knew was of his pure delight at seeing Romano, his possessive streak when it came to him and his unhindered affections toward his little moon who was no longer so little.

* * *

To Romano's chagrin and despair, the entire town seemed to know of his strange relationship with Spain. It was bad enough when Spain made it obvious with his possessive streak whenever the other children came to play with Romano, but whenever Romano left his (their) home, Spain would tag along (often times without Romano's consent) like a faithful hound. He would embarrass Romano to no end by trying to be sneaky but would end up drawing more attention by his pitifully lost expression that people would often direct him to Romano without another word.

Gossip soon flew around.

"Ah, you see that man, the one with the green eyes? He's waiting to take Romano as his bride."

A gasp," But Romano is still so young and they're both male!"

"Hush, Doris. They'll hear you. That's why he's waiting till Romano comes of age and I hear that some heathens do that up North."

"I hear Romano found him in the woods."

"Ah, yes. No one knows where he's from."

A third, raspy voice joined the gossipy women," He's the spirit of the forest."

Laughter ensued," Old woman Nancy. Do not be ridiculous. Why would the spirit of the forest chase after Romano?"

"Because the boy was blessed. He had been kidnapped by the fae but we foolishly brought him back. Now the spirit of the forest is waiting to take him away again."

"He was kidnapped by some wolf. I hear the wolf probably mistook him for one of its cubs and tried to attack the villagers who went to save Romano."

Old woman Nancy simply shook her finger as she stated ominously," Mark my words. On his 18th Birthday in a few months, Romano will disappear into the forest along with that green eyed fae."

Hiding himself in a corner, Romano shook as he overheard every word of gossip. He quickly turned away and rushed home, not caring if Spain was still following him or not. So many questions flew in his head. He had never wondered where Spain had come from but now doubts began to creep in, clouding his judgement.

What if Spain really was a Spirit of the Forest? He did tend to disappear into the woods for a long time. What if Spain was going to kidnap him and take him away? As much as Romano despised being in town, he was more fearful of the unknown. He shook his head. No, he couldn't let that happen. From now on he must avoid Spain to preserve himself.

* * *

"Little Moon?"

"Go away, Spain."

"But-"

"Go away, you dumbass!"

"Did I do something wrong?"

Romano felt his chest ache as he answered," Yes, now go away."

With a confused expression, Spain reached out a hand to touch Romano, but flinched when Romano quickly pulled away from him," Did I scare you, little moon?"

"I'm not little anymore, Spain."

"Lo siento, I forgot," he spoke with a strange, broken tone.

Romano turned to look at him and nearly gave in his resolve as he saw Spain's eyes look so afraid, so fearful of what Romano would say.

"Spain, wait-"

"Lo siento, little moon. If I scared you, I'll leave."

"But, wait I-"

Without another pause, Spain suddenly turned and ran into the woods. Romano was left with his hand hesitantly reaching out, trying to stop him.

* * *

Romano had forgotten.

He had forgotten about the power that he wield.

He had forgotten how Spain had adored him. Spain adored him so much that it bordered on near worship. Spain lived to glean the small compliments tossed his way from Romano (granted Romano didn't compliment anyone besides Spain). He hung off every word the boy spoke. And Romano had carelessly forgotten about the power he had over Spain and tossed the poor thing aside.

Like an unwanted stray, Romano had turned Spain away the moment he feared Spain might be dangerous or different.

But Spain would have never turned Romano away. Never. Not if the boy had pierced his heart and left him to die, Spain would still have sought Romano out even as he bled to death.

And that is what terrified Romano the most.

* * *

When he couldn't find Spain by nightfall, Romano feared what Spain would do without him, what he would do without Spain (they've never been separated for long periods before).

It nearly drove him mad. This aching and wanting and fear. Romano had forgotten how much he needed Spain to be there.

As he shouted Spain's name amongst the trees and heard the lonely echo of his voice, Romano honestly felt like a part of him would die if Spain didn't come back soon. He searched desperately, trampling about, scaring all the woodland creatures in his haste. But eventually a hooting owl signaled the rise of the lunar lights and Romano was forced to give up.

Burying his face in his hands, Romano slid to the dirt and curled inward. He hated himself right now. Spain could have disappeared to wherever he came from and it was all Romano's fault. A pang of regret and guilt bubbled up as he remembered: Spain reaching down to grab his hand, Spain always with a kind word for Romano, Spain who never failed to smother Romano in love and kisses. And as he traced Spain's name with a finger in the dirt, Romano wondered if Spain had fond memories of him. Or if Romano was nothing but always unkind to him.

It was then Romano's throat clogged with an unmistakable lump, and he cried. He cried like the day he had lost his beautiful, green-eyed wolf.

* * *

It was all Spain's fault.

No one needed to tell him otherwise.

Spain had feared the day that Romano would find out who he was. That he wasn't a normal human. He feared Romano's rejection more than anything and it had happened. He had scared his little moon away to hide behind thick clouds and all he could do was leave Romano in peace. 

Curling himself inward as he rested his head down on his knees, Spain felt his world shatter as he realized that from now on, his life would be one without his little moon, a lasting dark, moonless night for the poor wolf-turned-human.

His soft whimpers echoed in the shabby shack.

Suddenly, his head lifted. Despite the change in body, Spain had preserved some of his advance senses and he could hear a faint crying not far away. He couldn't bring himself to hope that it was Romano. He heard it again, a faint sobbing.

Rising to his feet, Spain smiled sadly as he started to walk toward whoever was crying in his forest. He supposed whoever it was, they could be lonely and sad together.

* * *

Sniffling, Romano first saw the man's feet before his eyes lifted wearily," If you're going to rob me, I don't-" He was shocked to see Spain standing there,frozen, looking conflicted but worried. Without a second thought, Romano lunged to Spain's chest and clutched him tightly as they both fell to the dirt from the momentum. Burying himself in Spain's chest as his arms wrapped around Spain's torso, Romano sobbed," Where did you go, you bastard!"

" Romano?" Spain asked as his arms wrapped delicately around Romano.

At this Romano's sobs grew louder in volume," N-no! Don't call me that! Call me your little moon, bastard! You've always called me your little moon."

Spain didn't know which Heavenly power to thank. With a comforting hand on Romano's back, he pulled him closer so Romano's head was resting on his then sat up with Romano sitting on his lap. He started to wipe away Romano's tears with a rain of gentle kisses to Romano's eyes, cheeks and then to his lips," Yes, my little moon. Did you miss me? Do I not scare you?"

Romano although surprised at the contact on his lips was not repulsed, he leaned into the kiss and sighed as if an answer had been found," No, yes. I mean yes, no... I missed you. and you don't scare me... you've never scared me. But I was scared."

As he cradled Romano in his lap, Spain asked with a low growl as his possessiveness started to flare up," Scared? of what? Who is it? I'll tear them apart."

" No," Romano calmed him with a gentle touch," I was scared that I drove you away. I-I was mean to you."

Spain shook his head as he nuzzled Romano's hair," No, Little Moon. I understand that you wax and you wane. You are kinder on some days and fiercer on others. You would never drive me away. "

Romano shivered as a low, crooning love note was then whispered into his ear. He froze," How? You shouldn't know that."

Spain simply smiled with gleaming, green eyes as he repeated his love note and his arm held Romano tight," Have you figured it out yet, little moon?"

Romano stared up into Spain's eyes with a mystified expression," You-you have green eyes."

" Yes, I do."

" That wolf had green eyes."

" Yes, he did."

" You said he was with his moon. And you call me little moon."

Spain smiled.

" But you can't be!"

" But I am."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha......... almost forgot to update this story here.....haha xD


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